Zane's the Heat Seekers

  He walked her upstairs to her door, took her by the hand, and swept his lips gently across her fingers before planting a kiss in her palm. “Thank you for the lovely evening, Tempest. I look forward to seeing you again.”

  With that said, Geren left Tempest standing there with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She masturbated herself to sleep that night, wondering what making love to him would feel like.

  CHAPTER 11

  one common goal

  “linda, we really need to get some more paper cups,” Tempest complained, throwing away yet another one that had sprung a leak the moment she tried to pour some milk into it. “Half of these have holes in them.”

  “I’m trying, Temp,” Linda replied, putting ginger snaps and apple slices on the small paper plates. “Mr. Saunders down at the corner store said he would donate some cups last week, and I haven’t seen him since.”

  The two of them were in the kitchen of the center preparing for snack time. They always fed the young women a little something before each counseling session.

  Tempest hated it when Linda called her Temp but never bothered to take issue with it. They had been working together at the teen pregnancy center for more than five years, and Tempest saw no reason to fall out over a nickname. Tempest knew Linda had grown up privileged in an all-white suburb of D.C. Linda wanted to save the world, but most of the young girls down at the center gave her a hard time. They couldn’t fathom how a blond, blue-eyed Valley girl could relate to their problems in the hood. Yet and still, Linda hung in there through thick and thin. Tempest genuinely admired that.

  “Mr. Saunders is always promising donations and backing down,” Tempest said, adding her two cents. “It’s such a shame that all of these merchants make a bunch of money off the community and refuse to give anything back.”

  “What can I say, Temp? Today’s society is messed up like that.”

  “True!”

  “By the way, how was the wedding you went to a couple of weeks ago?” Linda inquired.

  “It was wild. I’ll have to fill you in on the festivities after the session. Maybe we can go out and have a cup of coffee. It’s been a long time since we actually sat down and had a one-on-one.”

  “Tell me about it.” Linda chuckled, pushing her long blond hair behind her ear so it would stop falling in her face while she worked diligently on preparing the snacks. “There’s never a dull moment around here. That’s for sure.”

  As if to pay homage to that very statement, a loud scream sounded out down the corridor. Tempest and Linda practically bumped heads trying to get out of the kitchen at the same time. When they ran around the corner in the direction of the screams, a group of girls were gathered around the doorway of one of the center’s rest rooms.

  “What’s going on here? What’s wrong?” Tempest yelled out, pushing her way through the group of girls with Linda right on her tail.

  “It’s Brenda!” a young, curly-haired girl named Taneeka exclaimed. “I think she killed herself! She’s not moving!”

  As soon as Tempest got a good look in the rest room, she shouted out in panic. “Linda, call nine-one-one! Hurry!”

  • • •

  “Are you here with Brenda Watson?” an older female doctor with an Irish accent asked Tempest some three hours later in the waiting room of Children’s Hospital.

  “Yes, I am,” Tempest replied, jumping up after being startled awake by the woman’s voice. After the ambulance ride and filling out a bunch of forms, she must have dozed off on the couch. “Is Brenda going to be all right?”

  “She lost a lot of blood when she slit her wrists, but she’s going to be fine.”

  Tempest let out a loud sigh of relief. After walking into the bathroom and seeing what looked like a gallon of blood on the white linoleum floor, she’d thought Brenda might not make it. Her pulse had been extremely weak when Tempest felt for it while the ambulance was on the way to the center.

  “We gave her a transfusion, and she’s resting comfortably,” the doctor continued. “You can see her in a little while.”

  “Thanks, doctor.” Suddenly Tempest’s heart started racing again when she remembered the reason behind the suicide attempt. Her mind had been drawing a blank up until that point. Probably from emotional burnout. “What about the baby? Is the baby okay?”

  The doctor diverted her eyes to the floor. “I’m sorry. The fetus didn’t survive.”

  Tempest collapsed back down on the waiting room couch, stunned beyond belief.

  “We did everything we could,” the doctor added. “Are you a relative?”

  “No,” Tempest quickly responded. “I am, at least I was, her counselor at a teenage pregnancy crisis center.”

  “What about the child’s mother and father?”

  “No father,” Tempest replied, an edge of disdain in her voice. “Her mother leaves for weeks at a time to go stay with her boyfriend in New York City. I’ll have to try to track her down.”

  “So when she’s released, she’ll be home by herself?” the doctor asked, obviously concerned about a repeat suicide attempt.

  “She has a grandmother over in Northeast. I’ll see if she can go stay with her for a while.”

  “Good idea. Meanwhile, she’s going to need more intense counseling. Attempting to take one’s own life is a very serious matter. We have a great support group here.”

  “I’ll be sure to encourage her to attend the meetings,” Tempest said, forcing the sides of her mouth into a weak smile. “Thanks so much for everything, Doctor—?”

  “McTavish.”

  “Thanks, Dr. McTavish,” Tempest said, shaking her hand.

  The doctor turned to walk away. “I’ll have the nurse come get you when Brenda is ready for visitors.”

  “Thanks.”

  • • •

  Tempest was searching through her purse for thirty-five cents for the pay phone when Linda walked into the waiting room, looking just as exhausted as Tempest felt. Linda had volunteered to stay behind at the center and see that everyone got home okay. The session had obviously been canceled, but someone needed to shut the place down.

  “How’s Brenda? Is she okay? Is the baby okay?” Linda asked, rolling off three questions faster than Tempest could open her mouth to reply to the first one.

  “Brenda will be fine,” Tempest replied somberly. “At least physically. They’re going to sign her up for suicide prevention counseling here at Children’s. The baby didn’t make it.”

  “Damn!” Linda exclaimed.

  Tempest got up from the couch and put her arms around Linda. No matter what their racial difference, they were sistahs who shared the same goals and the same disappointments. Both of them had just lost the battle to save a young girl from the brink of disaster.

  “This may not be the perfect place to share that cup of coffee, but how about we hit the hospital cafeteria?” Tempest suggested. “We could both use a pick-me-up.”

  “What about Brenda? Can’t we go into her room?”

  “Not yet,” Tempest replied. “We’ll stop by the nurses’ station to tell them we’ll be in the cafeteria so they can find us.”

  “Okay,” Linda agreed as they walked out of the waiting room arm in arm.

  • • •

  “Temp, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” Tempest answered, taking a bite of the stale peanut butter cookie she’d purchased to nibble on with her cup of coffee.

  “Why do you do this?” Linda asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Work with pregnant teenagers?”

  Tempest shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to embark on a deep conversation about her past. “Let’s just say I have my own personal reasons.”

  “So do I,” Linda stated with an edge of nervousness in her voice. She took a sip of her own coffee before confessing, “I got pregnant when I was a teenager.”

  There was a brief silence while Tempest waited for her to expand on her statement. When she didn’t, Tempe
st inquired, “What happened to the baby? Did you have an abortion?”

  “Worse!” Linda lashed out at her. “My parents made me give my precious baby girl up for adoption. Just ripped her out of my arms and gave her away.”

  Tempest could see tears forming in Linda’s eyes. She reached across the table and took her hand. “Look, we don’t need to discuss this right now. We’re both emotionally drained over the whole thing with Brenda. We can talk about this later.”

  “No, I want to talk about it!” Linda exclaimed. “I need to talk about it!”

  “Okay, I’m listening,” Tempest said, crossing her arms in front of her on the table and giving Linda her undivided attention.

  “I was a junior in high school. A private school out in Potomac, Maryland. I first met Skip when we were in the eighth grade. By the ninth grade, I was totally infatuated by him.” Linda took another sip of her coffee before continuing. “I made him pressure me for sex for a good two years before I finally gave in to him. I wasn’t ready to have sex, but I knew if I didn’t, he would just get it elsewhere.

  “So we did it the first time in the backseat of my daddy’s Rolls Royce. I snuck out to the garage late one night to meet him, and it was all over before I knew what hit me. In and out, you know?”

  Tempest nodded her head. She figured two-minute brothas must come in all races. She could definitely relate.

  “We went on like that for a few months until one day I realized my period was late. Real late!”

  “How late?” Tempest inquired.

  “Almost three months,” Linda answered, lowering her eyes in shame. “I was just stupid back then. So caught up in the moments of passion that I didn’t pay attention to much anything else.”

  “Were you using protection?”

  “Yes, he was wearing condoms, but you know that story.”

  “Indeed, nothing is one-hundred-percent foolproof,” Tempest commented, thinking about the dozens of young girls at the center who ended up pregnant in spite of birth control. “So then what happened?”

  “I told Skip about the pregnancy, and he dumped me like I was the Bubonic Plague.” A single tear finally escaped Linda’s right eye and traced a trail down her pale cheek. “He stopped talking to me at school, he wouldn’t accept any of my phone calls, nothing.

  “I tried to have an abortion, but I couldn’t for two reasons. First off, I couldn’t do it without my parents signing a form, and secondly, it turned out I was too far along to have one anyway.”

  “What did your parents say when they found out?”

  “I hid it for as long as I could. I wore baggy clothing and stayed in my bedroom most of the time when I was at home. Ironically, it was the headmistress at my school that called my parents and spilled the beans. She could tell I was pregnant despite the clothing. I was so scared when my mother came barging into my room. I thought she was going to strangle me with her bare hands. Instead, she just slapped me a couple of times across the face and told me, ‘Just wait until your daddy gets home!’”

  Tempest could pretty much guess the rest of the story, but she prodded Linda to finish it anyway. “So they insisted you give the baby up for adoption?”

  “Absolutely!” Linda started wailing, and Tempest got up to walk around the table to sit directly beside her. The cafeteria was practically empty, since official visiting hours were over. “They wouldn’t let me make my own decision. They made it for me. They told me I was going to college and making something out of myself, without a baby.”

  “Well, now I understand why you took on the task of working at the center. I admire your determination to get through to the girls, in spite of their disparaging comments toward you at times,” Tempest said, rubbing the small of Linda’s back. “You know what, Linda? You and I are not as different as you might think. We have an awful lot in common.”

  Linda dried her eyes with a napkin and darted them at Tempest. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

  Before Tempest could answer her question, which she planned to answer truthfully, a nurse came into the cafeteria and waved in their direction.

  Linda jumped up from the table. “Brenda must be awake!”

  Tempest got up to follow her out of the door. Linda suddenly swung around. “I’m sorry. Did you need to talk about your situation? If so, we can stay a few more minutes and see Brenda later.”

  “No, not at all!” Tempest replied quickly, glad to be saved by the bell. She had gotten caught up in the moment but really wasn’t prepared to delve into her skeletal closet. “We’ll talk about it some other time.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive!” Tempest grabbed Linda’s elbow and led her out the door. “Let’s go check on our girl!”

  CHAPTER 12

  makin’ love

  geren knocked the charging base of the cordless phone off his nightstand when he reached for the handset in the darkness. His eyes slowly adjusted to the red light on his alarm clock. When he saw the time was 3:00 A.M., he wondered who in the world would be calling his house so late.

  “Hello,” he whispered groggily into the phone after pushing the talk button.

  “Hey, Geren. I’m sorry to be calling so late. Did I wake you?”

  “No, not at all,” he lied, after realizing it was Tempest on the other end. “I was just watching some TV.”

  His television was on because he was used to sleeping with some sort of noise, but as usual, it was watching him instead of the other way around.

  “That’s cool,” Tempest replied. She paused briefly before adding, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Is everything okay, Tempest?” Geren asked, propping himself up on one of his elbows and rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “It’s not that I’m not glad to hear from you. You can call me any time of the day or night. I must admit this is a bit of a surprise, though.”

  He patiently awaited a reply but got no answer. After a phone sex commercial advertising a nine hundred number came on and went off, he said, “Tempest? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I am. Sorry,” she anxiously replied. “I was just thinking about something.”

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes and no,” she responded, letting out a deep sigh afterward. “I’m fine physically, but I had an emotionally draining day.”

  “What happened?”

  “One of the girls tried to kill herself,” Tempest stated in dismay. “Right there in the center.”

  Geren sat straight up and threw his feet on the floor, flicking on a lamp in the process. He was wide awake now. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry to hear that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How is the girl?”

  “Brenda’s better, physically at least. I’m not sure about emotionally. She slit her wrists in the bathroom and lost a lot of blood.”

  “Oh, boy!” Geren exclaimed. “That’s horrible!”

  “I just left Children’s Hospital,” Tempest continued. “She’s resting comfortably.”

  “That’s good, and the baby?”

  Geren could tell from the silence on the other end that the baby hadn’t survived.

  “She lost it,” Tempest finally responded. “It was a little girl. Brenda was trying to kill herself and the baby, but now she’s gonna have to live and face the guilt.”

  Geren rubbed his forehead, trying to prevent a sudden migraine from taking over. “Well, are they keeping a close eye on her? What if she tries it again?”

  “They have her on a strenuous suicide watch. That’s hospital policy.”

  “How are you holding up? That must have been such a traumatic experience for you.”

  “I’m all right. Just having trouble sleeping,” Tempest said earnestly. “Just having a hell of a lot of trouble sleeping.”

  It suddenly dawned on Tempest that she was calling Geren at three in the morning. What if he wasn’t alone? “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

  “No, not at all,” Geren quickly replied. “Tempes
t, I told you I’m not seeing anyone else.”

  Tempest blushed because he said anyone else. That implied he felt that he was seeing her. She was hoping he regarded her in such a fashion.

  “In that case, I was lying here fantasizing about one of your awesome, spine-tingling massages.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Geren said excitedly.

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “If you’re serious, that can most definitely be arranged. Just say the word.”

  “Word.” Tempest giggled into the phone. She was ready for him. It was time. Life was too short. She needed someone. She needed Geren.

  “Give me thirty minutes,” Geren said before hanging up.

  Geren headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Across town, Tempest did the same thing.

  • • •

  Geren’s jaw almost hit his chest when Tempest greeted him at the door a little while later. He’d violated about a dozen traffic laws to get there. She was scantily clad in a black silk teddy and a short, sheer black robe.

  “You’re so damn beautiful,” he finally managed to utter.

  Tempest didn’t respond. Instead, she grabbed Geren by the collar of his navy oxford shirt, pulling him inside into her arms before standing on her toes and gliding her tongue into his mouth. He eagerly accepted it.

  She broke the kiss, took his hand, and led him to her bedroom. They collapsed onto Tempest’s bed together, groping each other all over.

  Geren palmed Tempest’s breasts and drew her left nipple into his mouth through the silk fabric.

  He was fidgeting with the straps of her teddy, trying to lower them when Tempest whispered, “You’ll hurt me.”

  The statement took him completely off guard. He let go of her straps and propped himself up on his elbow so he would have an eagle’s-eye view of her face. “What makes you say that?”

  Tempest darted her eyes over to his and redirected them to the ceiling. “Just like the rest of them.”

  Geren let out a frustrated sigh. “Fuck all of those stupid assholes who tried to run a game on you!”

  I did, Tempest thought to herself. I fucked every last one of them, and they dogged my ass out anyway.